I spent a Saturday afternoon auditing a class at the Seattle Barista Academy — I was there to write a story for an inflight magazine. Alexa, the coffee goddess who runs the course was a patient and entertaining instructor, I was charmed. I was also worried that I was going to freak out when faced …
It freaked my eyes out to be standing in so much color. On prior visits to the Skagit Valley flower fields I’ve seen mostly tulips — the reddish flowers in stripey rows of green leaves seem to vibrate even on days when there’s not a breath of wind. It’s a complementary color thing — theorists …
He was wearing a battered leather coat, the kind with pockets with flaps and a belt and wide lapels. Buttons, not zippers. It was brown. 1940s city, not 1950s biker. He had a Groucho Marx ‘stache, still dark, and Einstein hair reaching out in all directions like static. Maybe he was 60, maybe a well …
The guy behind the card table is turning a watch over in his hands. “It’s broken,” he says, to the guy that insists that it’s not, that it’s a good watch, that it’s just the watch band that needs replacement. “No,” says the guy behind the card table, this pin on the side needs fixing, …
There’s a certain way I look at the big mountain that marks the end of the valley when we’re driving the long side of it. If I can get the right perspective on it, I trick myself into thinking it’s the moon, hanging in space, just beyond the horizon. It’s too far to touch, but …